


Yours

by TheAuthorAgain



Series: Short Stucky Fics [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Mugging, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorAgain/pseuds/TheAuthorAgain
Summary: Ten dollars. Ten whole dollars. Thanks to Bucky, the ass, Steve lost it all. Lucky for him, Steve has a soft spot when it comes to his oldest friend.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Short Stucky Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093415
Kudos: 47





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous Tumblr user request: "hello :D for the fic ask would you wanna write something where Steve or Bucky gets mugged & their interaction together afterwards? I was originally thinking pre-war but it could also be interesting to do it modern times"  
> Hope you enjoy!

"Your Ma said we should be back before it gets too dark-"

"It's just a pit stop, Stevie, lighten up!"

Ten dollars. Ten whole dollars. It was crazy, really, that much money, but Bucky didn't even seem to care. Nope, too set on popping by Mary Washington's house. Steve ignored the vile taste that put in his mouth. Not like he had any right to be jealous.

No, but the REAL reason Steve was upset, not the one that made him go to church more and beg God to make him normal, make him clean, the REAL reason Steve wanted to rush home, was because ten dollars was a whole lot of money. And Bucky was too damn rich to realize.

The Barnes family was well off, or as well off as any family could be during the Depression. Sure, they had a lotta mouths to feed, but somehow Winnie and George managed to give their children both the basic necessities and a sense of entitlement that really got Steve going.

I mean, really, who was Buck to walk around at dark with ten dollars in his pal's pocket? Steve had insisted on hanging onto their reward for a week's work at Mr. Davis' new shop, clutching it tightly in a fist that he buried deep within his pocket. Steve knew the value of hard work. Steve knew how to take care of finances. Steve wasn't more focused on some dame then on his friends.

Steve tried not to be so bitter. Steve failed.

His mood darkened with the sky, until Bucky's futile attempts to make conversation failed. A grim expression overtook the boy instead, and the friends walked in an icy silence that just added to the nausea that was overtaking Steve.

They finally made it to Mary's place, and Bucky looked nervously back at Steve. "Back in a bit," he said quietly, to which Steve had no reply. The younger looked away as his friend disappeared into the doorway of his girl's house, leaving Steve alone outside on a dark night.

At first, Steve was patient. He sat there, waiting for Bucky to finish doing God knows what. Jealousy burned in his stomach, but he held it in for the sake of friendship.

A minute passed, then another. Then ten more. _Back in a bit, my ass,_ Steve thought sullenly, wondering if it would be better to just go back to his apartment instead of wait for Bucky and sleep over at his place. The way things were going, it seemed like Buck would be the one having a sleepover, anyways.

That thought was what made Steve stand, get away from the house and move out into the streets dimly lit by streetlights and the moon. This wasn't a bad neighborhood, he figured, so a little walk wouldn't hurt anyone. He'd be back by the time Buck was...finished.

Sometimes, Steve wondered if Bucky felt it too. That pull, the one that drew eyes and hands to the other. Was he crazy? Maybe. But it really did seem like Buck...

No, but he couldn't. I mean, Mary, for God's sake. Bucky had spent nearly every day for the past few weeks at her place, probably kissing the breath out of her and making her feel things that Steve never would. Because Steve was a fag, a fairy, an abomination, and Bucky was everything his pastor thought a boy should be.

Lost in thought, Steve had found that he had wandered in the general direction of his apartment. He turned back to go to Mary's after a moment of deliberation, but found himself facing a small group of men instead of the empty street he expected.

"Hey, kiddo, you lost?" one of them said, his tone threatening rather than concerned. "Nope," Steve replied as cheerfully as he could, "Just headed home."

Stepping out of shadows, a fella in a nice suit and tie smiled. "Well, where do ya live? We'd be happy to walk you home."

"Oh, that's alright. I can find my way just fine." Steve tried to keep a calm composure, seem like less of an easy target, but his fear was making that very difficult. His hand tightened even more on those precious ten dollars in his pocket, and one of the men noticed.

"What's that you got there, kid?" All their eyes shot to Steve's hand, still buried in his pocket, and he took it out quickly. 

"Nothin'.", he responded, voice a little too frantic for his own comfort.

The guy in the suit smiled again, this time like a shark tasting blood in the water. "Mhm. Hand it over. Now."

Time seemed to freeze for an instant as Steve thought over his options. He could give them what they wanted, walk away unscathed, or fight and surely lose. Steve was never one to back down, but looking at these four huge guys, with killer smiles and coats that could be hiding anything, guns or knives or...Steve knew he couldn't fight, but he wasn't about to give in to them, either.

He darted to the side, ducking into an alley and crossing to the street on the other side of it. Being so close to his own apartment, Steve was lucky enough to know the best ways to get around quickly, and he used this precious knowledge to his advantage as the men thundered behind him with long legs.

_Just gotta get back to Bucky, just gotta get back to Bucky,_ Steve thought over and over as he ran, lungs burning. He refused to give into their weakness, though, knowing that the cost of stopping for air would be far worse than the pain he felt now.

Feeling secure in his substantial lead, Steve spared a look back and saw only two of the men behind him. What? But he was close, so close to Mary's house, that he couldn't wonder about where those other guys could be-

Except that he had to, when he turned his head back towards where he was running and saw one of them standing up ahead. Steve stopped quickly, heart pounding and lungs screaming, and moved to the side as fast as he could in his tired and tiny body.

The speed of his flight didn't mean much, though, seeing as he ran right into the fourth man. Thick arms wrapped tightly around him, a dirty hand finding his mouth, and Steve kicked futilely as he was pulled back into the shadows of a park.

Steve bit the hand on his mouth, but the guy attached to him didn't even flinch. "Guess even puppies bite," the deep voice chuckled, and Steve felt the words rumble against his back with close the man was holding him against his chest.

As the other three guys joined the party, Steve was let go and tossed to the ground. He scrambled up, trying to dart away, but was shoved brutally to the ground without hesitation. His back hit the dirt, pain blossoming in his rear and struggling lungs. The men laughed as Steve gasped, tried to stand once more.

"Whaddya got in that pocket of yours, pal?" the man with the dirty hands asked, stalking forward alongside the one with the big beard. Suit and Beard grabbed him by each arm as the one who spoke plunged those dirty hands into Steve's pockets, pulling out the money and other little things Steve had a habit of picking up and holding onto.

"Damn, no wonder the little guy ran," the fourth man said with his squeaky voice, taking the money Steve worked so hard for from his friend and holding it up appreciatively. "Where'd you get this, huh? Steal it? Beg for it? Or does our friend here have some secret talents he's holding back from us?" He stepped forward to slap Steve's ass with a nasally chuckle, making the blond feel like he might be sick.

As hands continued to grope him, searching for anything of value, Steve struggled to break free. His mind drifted to Bucky, who was probably still kissing Mary and drawing out noises from her that were a lot nicer than the gasp of pain Steve involuntarily let out when Squeaky threw a punch towards his face.

"Hey, don't knock him out, leave some for the rest of us," Beard complained as Steve's vision began to spin, and he went a little limp in the tight grip of the men holding him. "He's fine," Squeaky said gruffly, shoving Steve towards the other man, who caught him roughly.

"You two get everything of value?" Suit said calmly, almost pleasantly. Although the others were the ones actually attacking Steve, the man in the suit was the one he feared most. People of silence and easy smiles were the ones who hid the most dangerous agendas.

Squeaky scoffed and pinched Steve's cheek, much to the blond's discomfort. "Who do you think we are? Course we did."

"Great." Suit let go of Steve and gestured for Beard to do the same, brushing off Steve's shoulders before punching him _hard_ in the stomach. Steve didn't even have time to react before he let out a silent scream of pain, his already struggling lungs now begging for mercy from people who clearly couldn't care less.

Steve lost track of what happened after that, unable to do anything but curl up and pray they would stop. It was a coward's move and he knew it, but it's not like he had anyone to care that blood and bruises were slowly spreading across every inch of his body. Except...maybe...Bucky? Bucky...Bucky was busy. Bucky wasn't coming.

His thoughts started getting a little fuzzy, as pain came washing over him in never-ending tides. Steve was on the ground, he knew that, but what was even...were they punching him? Kicking him? Bashing his head in with a fucking rock? His head was killing him, he knew that, but pinpointing the spots they attacked started becoming harder and harder.

"That's enough," a deep voice said, measured and pleasant, "Don't want to kill the little guy." Steve looked up blearily, and saw the swimming image of a man in a suit standing above him. A hard and polished shoe came over his face and he flinched away hard, only to hear laughter. The shoe dropped to the ground near his head, a taunt, without even touching him.

And then he was alone.

Steve was sure if this was worse than being beaten. This aching, stabbing loneliness, with only blood and dirt to keep him company. Steve found himself humming tunelessly to the night, just to make it seem like there was someone else there. It was dark, so very dark, dark enough that a friend could be lying beside him, shrouded in shadow, smiling back at Steve.

They were supposed to be back by dark. Buck's Ma said that when you're carrying around a lot of money-

Oh, no. The money.

Steve groaned loudly, irritated with himself, and realized that it was remarkably cathartic. What with the immense pain and all. He groaned again, louder this time, before going silent. Wasn't like there was a point to making noise. No one was coming.

_Should I get up?_ Steve wondered. He probably could, if he needed to. But what was the point? To go through that effort, just to walk home alone and get his Ma all worried for-except that his Ma wasn't home. Which was why he was sleeping over at Bucky's.

Bucky...Steve couldn't remember a time when he wasn't head over heels for the boy. And that was BAD. Perhaps this was a fitting end, then, for a freak like him, to die alone in the dark, thinking about dark hair and blue eyes and lips that would never touch Steve anywhere.

Which was fine, not like Steve needed to be loved. He was fine, lying down, almost calm, even though the pain really was something. His head throbbed, which was the worst of it, more like an ache everywhere else. Maybe he could get up, then, just to-

But movement felt like hot knives, wildfire erupting immediately below his skin. Steve laid back down and sighed in the almost-relief of stillness, closing his eyes for a bit. There, that was better. Almost like the dark was normal, then, like he could open his eyes and it would be light out. There.

Head against the ground, Steve let himself drift a bit. Just...be. He didn't quite think of anything, each passing thought being like clouds on a windy day. Carried on swiftly to other places, other lands, other faces. As it should be.

But this drift was stolen from him far too quickly by a violent shaking, a panicked voice. "Steve? Steve? Stevie?! Wake up, please, wake up-"

Steve moaned loudly at the pain this shaking brought him, the loud voice like needles burrowing into his ears. "Shuddup, tryna...tryna-"

"Come on, Steve, you gotta wake up, you gotta get up," Steve opened his eyes to see Bucky, their faces agonizingly close. Close enough that Steve could feel Bucky's warm breath exhale on his face. It was nice. "Steve!" Well, the constant yelling wasn't nice. Steve was just trying to enjoy the moment-

Bucky tried to pull his friend off the ground, but Steve yelped in protest. "Hey, hey, don', don' do that, hurts-"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Bucky's face held agony, held a kind of concentrated pain that made Steve's head spin. Or maybe that was the blood dripping down the side of his face. Steve wasn't quite sure if the expression and the head-spinning were correlated, but they both were at the forefront of his mind. "I'm so sorry, Stevie, baby, you gotta get up. I have to take you to the hospital, Steve, I-"

"No! No hospital," Steve said quickly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "In this state? Steve, you can't even sit up-"

In retaliation, Steve fought through the pain and struggled his way into a sitting position, although the movement made him even dizzier. "C'mon, Buck, let's go ho-what's that?"

A large burlap sack covering a flat object was lying on the ground next to the crouching Bucky, who suddenly looked embarrassed. "Nothin', Stevie, come on. If you say you can go home, let's go home."

"I wanna know what-!"

"I'll tell you if you stop being such a punk and get some goddamn medical assistance."

In the battle between stubboness and curiosity, curiosity won. Steve, with the help of Bucky, staggered back to the Barnes residence and scared the living daylights out of Winifred. "Steve, what happened to you?" she said, far too loudly for the late hour, and helped her son bring Steve inside.

"Mugged," Steve said thickly, feeling very tired from the exertion of his travels. A wet washcloth found its way to his head, guided by the steady hands of Mrs. Barnes, and he smiled at the sensation. "That feels nice."

"I'm sure it does, darling. James, go get the first aid kit from the bathroom, and get your sisters back to bed." Steve opened his eyes to see several curious little girls watching this scene unfold, before Bucky shooed them back upstairs.

"I'll tell you what's going on later," Bucky whispered, "Just try to go back to sleep." He disappeared down the hallway for a moment, only to return with a white box he hurriedly gave to his mother.

After checking him over thoroughly, Winifred smiled at Steve. "Well, this could've been a lot worse. You'll have a lot of bruises, but no broken bones. Your head might give you some trouble, too, so lets just keep you inside in the quiet just to be safe."

"Goody," Steve mumbled, and Bucky cracked a smile.

"It could've been a lot worse, be grateful," Mrs. Barnes said sternly, "And don't go picking fights you can't win."

"But I didn't pick a fight, they attacked me!"

"I'm not just talking about this occasion, Steven, me and your mother have had to patch you up far more times than either of us would like. James, help your friend to bed?"

"Yes, Ma."

Resting heavily on Bucky, Steve listened as his friend told his younger sisters that Steve was gonna be just fine. His eyes were starting to get quite heavy, his mind going back to that fuzzy headspace it was in on that ground.

But now he was resting on pillows, not dirt, and Bucky was keeping him company instead of shadows. "Are you okay, Steve?" the teen whispered, practically breathed out, anxiety and concern and relief all bundled into a gentle tone.

"Yeah. What was in the sack?"

Bucky chuckled. "You really are insatiable, huh?" 

"You have no idea."

After a beat of silence, Bucky smiled. "I'll go get it. Don't fall asleep on me, punk." 

Fulfilling this request was easier said than done, as exhaustion overflowed the entirety of Steve's being, but he stayed away for Bucky. Bucky, who soon returned with that sack. "Open it!" the brunet said excitedly.

Steve shakily untied the top of the sack, seeing a canvas inside. He pulled it out, and a sharp gasp escaped him.

It was a painting of Steve, sitting on a fire escape at sunrise. His legs were dangling, his clothes clean, and he looked...peaceful. Like he belonged there. A sketchbook sat beside him with a half drawn city skyline, but Steve seemed content to just look at the view. The painting was done from an odd perspective, as though the viewer was watching him, intruding on a moment...or maybe making it better. Steve realized that this was how Bucky saw him.

Tears pricked his vision, exhaustion and pain momentarily forgotten with such a momentus gift. "Buck, this is..."

"So you like it, then?" Steve looked up and saw that Bucky was painfully nervous, fidgeting on the bed. "I wasn't sure-Mary said that she tried to make it as realistic as she could, but she didn't wanna put as much detail into the buildings, so it might be a little rough for your taste-"

"Wait, that's what you and Mary have been doing? You've been telling her what to paint?"

Bucky scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "Yeah, what else would-oh. Oh, um...no, we're definitely not..."

"Right."

After an awkward pause, Steve decided it was now or never to ask his question. Heart pounding, he said, "You...you called me baby. On the street. You..."

Bucky's eyes widened as his face flushed a dark red. "Um...yeah. I guess I just, um, I-" He cut himself off, unable to find an explanation, before looking deeply at Steve. And drawing closer. Steve's heart raced as they started leaning towards one another, a blush overcoming him too, until their lips met.

It was an awkward kiss, a gentle and with little passion. But even though Steve didn't have much experience in this arena, he knew that it was a good one. Bucky's hand came to cup the back of Steve's head, as they just drank in that soft touch for a prolonged moment.

Pulling away, Bucky looked bashfully at Steve. "I...did not think that was how this was gonna go."

"You're telling me," Steve laughed, gesturing to the bandage on his head. Full of nervous energy, they both started giggling, trying to muffle the sound so as not to wake anyone up. "Seriously, though, Buck, this is the best present I've ever gotten."

"Really?"

Steve smiled at his friend's giddy expression. "Of course! I'll have to pay Mary for her trouble, though-"

"I already did."

"Well, then I'll pay you. I mean, this can't have been cheap-"

"It's a gift. you don't need to repay me."

Steve's stomach dropped. "Shit, but I lost the money. Your half of it, too. I'll have to pick up some extra shifts if I wanna be able to-" He was interrupted by lips touching his own, and a whirl of light emotion overtook him.

"This is payment enough," Bucky said with a grin, "I don't need money. I just need you."

Steve simply stared for a moment, a smile startling its way onto his face. "You can have me, then. Any time you want, Buck, I'm yours." 

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but Steve involuntarily yawned before he had the chance. "Oh, I'm an idiot, you're hurt and tired and-c'mon, you gotta go to sleep. Lie down."

Steve let Bucky take away the canvas and get him into a comfortable position, to tired to fight back against the coddling. Especially because that night, the coddling came with arms that wrapped around him in a warm embrace. "G'night, Bucky. Love ya." Those last words came out of him in a sleepy haze, and Bucky wasn't even sure Steve knew what he was saying.

Nevertheless, the dark haired boy pressed a kiss to the back of his sleeping friend's neck. "Love you too, baby."


End file.
